seems to see this when he speaks of the mob as a thousandlegged beast, and anticipates with dread the time when there will be a black beast of the same kind to set off against the white beast.
He thinks that the permanent display of force by the whites is the best remedy, and forgets, Christian minister though he be, that the efficacy of sympathy and brotherly interest has scarcely been tried.
The race question is no simple matter to be settled at a thousand miles' distance by academic theories; but it is safe to say that it will only be solved by the spirit of love, and that Booker Washington
shows far more of this than the author of “The leopard's Spots.”
may not know it, but he seems to believe in a gospel of hate.
One of the heroes of the book, an ex-Confederate common soldier, admits that he hates the very sight of a Negro, and this before the period of reconstruction had set in and when the Negro had done nothing but work and suffer.
There is a total lack of measure, too, in the punishments meted to the black man in this novel.
One of them asks a white woman to kiss him. He makes no effort to force her to comply, but he is speedily hanged.
“His thick lips had been split with a sharp knife, and from his teeth hung this placard: ‘The answer of the Anglo-Saxon
race to Negro ’”